


Love a Man in Uniform

by annie_reckson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crush at First Sight, Crushing, First Kiss, M/M, policeman!stiles, stiles as a cop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7318666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_reckson/pseuds/annie_reckson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two things to know about Scott McCall: He cares very, VERY deeply about his social justice causes and he falls in love very, VERY easily. Eventually those two truths would get him into trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love a Man in Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the 2016 Sciles Big Bang!.  
> This is my first time doing a Big Bang, hope y'all like it!
> 
> Edit: now with accompanying art by a [very talented artist! ](http://sickofallthispeopletalking.tumblr.com)

Scott’s heart is racing by the time he gets to Kira and Boyd’s apartment. He bounds up the concrete stairs, taking two or three at a time, and bursts through their front door with a huge smile on his face. Nearly everyone is there, gathered on the various pieces of furniture Kira and Boyd were able to find; Malia, Derek, Isaac, and of course, Kira and Boyd. Their expressions, though, don’t exactly match his.

Malia jumps up, “What the fuck, Scott!”

“Hey,” Isaac lays a hand on her arm, “He’s probably been through a lot in the last 24 hours,” He locks eyes with Scott, “Seriously, though, what the fuck, Scott. But also, are you okay?”

“You probably need some tea,” Kira heads to the kitchen.

“Guys! Wait, Kira come back, I’m fine!” He smiles even bigger, “I’m really alright. Honestly.”

“I’m sure you could understand why we’d be worried,” Derek purses his lips, his hands pressed together as he glares from his spot on the couch.

“The whole thing was actually...pretty amazing,” Scott slumps onto one the oversized armchairs.

“So,” Boyd raises his eyebrows, “Are you going to tell us what happened after you were arrested? We’ve all been anxious since yesterday afternoon.”

“Did you guys see the officer that arrested me?”

“Not really,” Derek narrows his eyes, “We were too freaked out that you’d, y’know, _been arrested_.”

“I mean, yeah, that was kind of a shock at first, but it wasn’t that bad. Well I mean, it wasn’t exactly great, but Officer Stilinski made it not as bad.”

Isaac rolls her eyes, “Jesus dude, this sounds like the start of a bad porno. Are you going to tell us next that he gave you a handy while you were handcuffed in the backseat?”

“No!” Scott crinkles his nose, “It wasn’t like that at all, he was completely professional in every way.”

Of course Officer Stilinski was professional, in every sense of the word. Scott is more than aware that they’re on opposite sides, considering he and his friends are fighting hard for Shapeshifter Rights movement. They try to keep their protests peaceful, to avoid situations like the one Scott found himself in, but the police are usually there in their shiny riot gear, anyway. Although, Scott knows that a lot of that has to do with the number of powerful people upset that the Shapeshifter Rights movement is gaining so much attraction and attention nationwide.

This protest is like any of their other ones,  consisting of shapeshifters and sympathizers chanting and blocking traffic. They’re standing in the middle of one of the main streets of the city and cars are starting to get annoyed about the whole thing, but Scott keeps at it along with everyone else. These people can deal with a minor inconvenience, especially considering what Scott and his kind deal with on a regular basis.

Scott happens to turn his head towards the police just as one of the officers flips the visor of their helmet up, exposing their face to the crowd. It’s probably just to get a breath of fresh air, but Scott is thankful for it nonetheless, since it gives him a clear view of the biggest, deepest, brownest eyes he’d ever seen. Scott’s gaze lingers, focusing on a truly plush pair of lips, right before the officer throws his head back and laughs at the officer standing beside him, exposing a long throat covered in moles that Scott itches to get his fangs on.

Before he has a chance to truly appreciate the sight, the officer flicks their visor back down and steps back into alignment with the rest. It isn’t a surprise when they hear the sheriff announce through a megaphone that all protesters need to vacate the premises or face imprisonment. Rather than following the directive, the whole thing just makes Scott chant even louder and pump his fist with more gusto than before, even as most of the people around him take the smarter route and start to leave.

The officers step towards the small group left and Scott’s chest swells when the officer from before, the one with the insanely gorgeous doe eyes, grabs him by the wrists and zip-ties them before setting him on the sidewalk. He can’t help but notice that he had been gently set down, whereas the other protesters had just been tossed onto the concrete. In the distance, Scott can see his friends lingering a few blocks down, so he widens his eyes and jerks his head, encouraging them to get away.

Officer Doe-Eyes hauls him up by his wrists and leads him towards the police van; Scott relishes in the touch, even tries to twist his fingers back to that he can make contact. There’s a moment when he swears that Officer Plush-Mouth lets his fingers graze against Scott’s, probably just as a calming gesture, but Scott swoons from it nonetheless.

The drive to the police station is less eventful; the two officers there having whipped off their helmets as soon as they’d shut their doors. To Scott’s dismay, neither of them is his arresting officer. Instead a woman with dark lips and blonde curly hair that still bounces despite being stuck inside the riot gear drives them, probably a little bit too fast, while a dark-haired girl with a friendly smile implores them to stay quiet and make it easy on themselves.

Scott doesn’t think he recognizes any of the other people in the back of the van with him, although he assumes that he must be in good company, since they’d all been at the protest. He leans his head against the cold metal, exhaling loudly and wondering how long it will be until he saw his officer again.

The van screeches to a halt outside the police station, jerking them all forward before they have a chance to ground themselves. Scott cranes his neck to peer out the small windows on the back doors and is just able to catch sight of Officer Doe-Eyes chatting with an older man who’s also in police uniform. And, damn, he was probably going to have to add “Officer Nice-Ass” to the list. That is, until he finds out his future husband’s name. He, obviously, never imagined himself with a police officer, but he is very aware that the universe worked in strange ways.

Officer Beautiful Blonde opens the door and gestures for them to file out one-by-one, Scott being the last to leave. Their hands are freed and they’re led inside, where they’re assigned an officer to fill out their paperwork. Scott crosses his fingers and hopes that he still gets Officer Plush-Mouth. When his dark eyes lock onto Scott and gesture for Scott to follow him, Scott mentally thanks every deity he can remember. It’s like treading on air as Scott follows him back to his desk.

Not surprisingly, he’s even more good looking now that Scott can see him up close without his helmet. He’d definitely been correct about the big, beautiful dark eyes and the lips that look like they’d be soft and nice to the touch, but from this short distance Scott can also see that his policeman has the absolute cutest upturned nose, (“Officer Adorable-Nose” was definitely going on the list). Scott is so busy trying to mesmerize the features of the man across from him that he misses whatever’s been said to him.

“I’m sorry,” Scott gives him his best grin, “Could you repeat that?”

“I said,” And geez if he doesn’t have a voice that is much deeper than Scott had imagined, “That this doesn’t need to be a big thing. We’re just going to keep the group of you overnight, you’ll all be let go in the morning. No bail needed or anything.”

In his head, Scott knew he should respond with the phrase Derek had drilled into his head for this situation, _So, that means you’re not charging me with a crime, right? And if you’re not charging me with a crime, then you can’t keep me here. I know my rights as a citizen and if you don’t release me immediately, you’ll be in violation of my Constitutionally-held rights._

“Okay, that sounds good.”

Officer Possibly-Tasty-Moles gives him a smirk, “Alright then, give me your hand.”

“Whoa,” Scott raises an eyebrow, “That’s a bit forward isn’t it?”

Officer Nice-Ass blushes, “So that I can take your fingerprints.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” He smirks at Scott.

A snort of laughter escapes from Scott before he can stop it, but the officer only lifts his eyes at him in mirth. While Officer Doe-eyes is ( _holding his hand!_ ) dipping his fingers into the ink and rolling them onto the thick paper, Scott finally thinks to look at his namebadge. Because, while he wouldn’t mind being Mr. and Mr. Hot-Ass, he is aware of how that would look on wedding stationery.

 _Stilinski_.

It’s a last name that Scott’s never heard before, and somehow that makes it even more special. Plus, Scott’s always loved alliteration. He wonders if Officer Stilinski would let him take his last name. Or they could even hyphenate. He isn’t able to decide whether he likes _McCall-Stilinski_ or _Stilinski-McCall_ better before Officer Stilinski finishes up his paperwork and takes him to the shared cell with the rest of the protesters. Which is fine, Scott figures he can probably just ask Officer Stilinski when they go on their first date.

Okay, maybe not the first date. Scott isn’t crazy or anything.

Even if he ends up spending the first few hours in his cell planning exactly what their first date will be like. Right now it’s the absolute perfect weather for a jog in the park. Officer Stilinski looks like he has really nice legs underneath his uniform pants, he probably enjoys jogging through parks. Hopefully, he enjoys doing other things with those nice legs, too.

Scott sighs, trying not to give away where his mind’s at, considering he’s in a very crowded cell with a bunch of people who he still doesn’t know. And right now he’s feeling too worn out and too spacey to try and make friends with any of them. Which seems fine, because all of them just look like they want to pass out for the rest of the evening.

To Scott’s dismay, Officer Stilinski isn’t there when he’s released the next morning. There’s little fanfare when their cell is finally opened, just the officer with the pretty smile telling them to stay out of trouble. Which, now that he’s found his soulmate, Scott realizes he has no intention of actually doing.

“So what are you going to do!” Kira asks excitedly, all grins as she lay haphazardly across Malia’s lap.

Scott shrugs, “I gotta find out when the next protest is, I guess.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up, “That’s your plan? You’re just going to try and get arrested again?”

“Well yeah, what else am I going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Boyd smirks, “Maybe go up to the police station and ask for him?”

Scott crinkles his nose, “Isn’t that a little weird? I don’t want him to think I’m weird.”

“Why not?” Malia asked, “You are weird. He should know that up front.”

“Well yeah, but I don’t want him to know all that about me just yet,” Scott ruffles his hair.

Isaac groans, “Am I the only one that sees a problem with Scott exhibiting some form of a lovedrunk Stockholm Syndrome?”

Scott jumps up, “Whoa dude! You know me-”

Malia rolls her eyes, “Exactly. In the time I’ve known you, I’m pretty sure you’ve fallen in love....28 times. Not including your brief crushes on...every single one of us.”

“I can’t help that you guys are all amazing people. I think it’d be weird if I _didn’t_ ever have crushes on any of you.”

“Jesus, Scott,” Derek scrubs a hand down his face.

“This is different though guys. I really felt a connection with him. Y’know? I can’t even explain it, but we shared something in our brief time together. I have to see him again.”

 “I like it,” Kira rests her chin on her fist, “It’s very Romeo and Juliet. Like, you know, protester and riot cop. You’re from such different worlds and yet...”

“Pretty sure Juliet was a victim of Stockholm Syndrome, so I’m still right,” Isaac’s smirk is nearly aggravating. 

“Oh my god, guys, just chill, okay? It’s not like I wanna marry the guy,” Scott lies, “Right now I just wanna see him again.” 

Derek sighs, “I’ll probably regret this, but one of the other people at the rally yesterday told me that there’s a smaller group getting together at the university next week.”

“Oh yeah,” Boyd nods, “Aren’t they protesting the new registration limitations?”

“That’s perfect!” Scott smiles, “I totally disagree with the university imposing restrictions on shapeshifters that just want to get an education AND it’ll give me another chance to meet Office Doe-eyes.”

“I thought you said his name was Stilinski....” Kira asks, with a sweet grin.

“I mean, that’s his _real_ name. But I might have a few other ones for him.”

“Please do us all a favor and do not tell us any of the other ones,” Boyd implores.

Malia cringes, “There’s definitely one about his butt, isn’t there?”

Scott grins, “At least one.”

 

***

 

The gathering is a small one, just like Derek said, but it’s enough to garner attention. Even more so because most everyone is carrying a sign of some sort and there’s at least one local news station there taping all of it and waiting to interview them.

Scott isn’t sure that Derek’s sign, which strictly reads, “PREDATORS, NOT KILLERS” gives off the right message, at least not with the murder-scowl he’s currently wearing. Scott’s not really sure he wants to argue with him about it. Kira’s is much cuter, in swirly letters she’s written “WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY ABOUT UNFAIR ENROLLMENT RESTRICTIONS?” with a slightly disgruntled-looking cartoon fox drawn next to it. It’s a little on the wordy side, but Scott likes it nonetheless.

The one leaning against Scott’s shoulder simply says, “WOLVES IN WOLVES CLOTHING” with “TRANSPARENCY AND TRUST SHOULD GO BOTH WAYS” written smaller underneath it. It’s cleaner than his usual script, probably because he spent most of the morning on it.

He’s brandishing it with pride and chanting along with the everyone else when the police van pulls up, three cruisers following behind it. Scott holds his breath as the officers file out, thankful that they’re in the regular uniforms, mostly because it’ll make Officer Stilinski easier to identify.

His freezes when he sees him, all broad shoulders and ridiculous swagger as he steps out of the driver’s side of one of the cruisers. It’s been a few of days, but Scott finds that he’s forgotten how nice Stilinski looks in the clean, black of his uniform. Honestly, it frames him pretty perfectly, as far as Scott’s concerned. Not to mention, he’s never realized how much he loves aviator sunglasses, but Stilinski is making them look really good.

It looks like the same group of officers from before, or at least Scott recognizes Stilinski, the pretty blonde one, and the one with the friendly smile. In any case, he can feel the group around him start to stutter a bit when the police show up, obviously worried considering what happened last time.

 Scott, however, is feeling particularly brave. He shakes his shoulders a little bit, then starts to walk over to where the officers are chatting and leaning against their vehicles. Behind him, he can hear some of his friends yelling at him, but so far none of the officers have acknowledged his movement. Plus, he’s wearing his tightest shorts and his most revealing tank top, so he’s kind of feeling himself.

He puts on what he believes is his most charming smile and walks straight up to Officer Stilinski, “Well, hello there.”

Stilinski raises an eyebrow, “Uh, hi?”

“C’mon,” Scott tries for an easy chuckle, “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry but-”

“You arrested me a few days ago,” Scott’s mood falters a bit, “At the protest? You took my fingerprints and everything...”

“Quite a few people were arrested that day, sir.”

“Wow, you really don’t- Okay. Well,” Scott feels his face go hot, “I’m just going to head back over there with my metaphorical tail between my legs and uh, you guys just keep doing what you’re doing. I guess,” He forces his lips to quirk up in an approximation of a careless smirk.

“Have a good day, sir. Do us a favor and try to keep this thing peaceful, okay?” Stilinski nods, "I would really love to just let you guys off with a warning today."

Scott tilts his head, “Oh really?” His pride wounded, he can’t help but lash out, “Why would it matter if we kept it peaceful or not? The last one was peaceful and I got arrested anyway.”

“Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down.”

“Why should I be calm about the fact that people in charge of my future, shit, people in charge of my _country_ feel like I should have fewer rights than everyone else just because of something I can’t change about myself?”

“Sir-” The officer with the pretty smile moves to interject.

“Moreover, why should I be calm when taxes that I pay go towards a group of glorified thugs who do little more than uphold the establishment that wants to silence us simply because we dare to exist? But don’t worry, we’ll be _peaceful_ about it,” Scott sneers as he walks away.

His fists are clenched by the time he makes it back to everyone else, claws digging into the soft flesh of his palms. Back in the relative safety of his group of friends, he tries to shake off the clear and obvious rejection. There are soft murmurs coming from the people around him, but it’s Kira who approaches him first.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” She places a hand on his shoulder.

Scott shakes his head, “No, not really. But it’s fine,” He exhales deeply and takes one last look at Officer Stilinski, still leaning against his squad car in all of his gorgeous, lanky glory, “I’m pretty sure you guys were right though, there’s no way it would have ever worked out.”

She scrunches her mouth, “For what it’s worth. I’m really sorry.”

“Just forget about him,” Malia crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at the entire group of officers, “He seems like kind of a dick anyway.”

“Yeah,” Scott nods, “I don’t know how I missed it before.”

 

***

 

Miraculously, despite their loud chanting, and how obviously annoyed the dean of the college is at their presence on the quad, none of the protesters get arrested. The officers barely even move from their cars, seemingly satisfied just observing them. Scott resolutely ignores them, especially Officer Stilinski. He feels a measure of relief when he notices that Stilinski’s cruiser is gone.

After awhile, they decide to pack up and his little group makes plans to head somewhere for dinner. They’ve handed out a bunch of pamphlets and talked to dozens of students who didn’t know about the unfair restrictions the university was trying to impose, so overall Scott considers the protest a success.

He helps Derek and Boyd load most of everything into their car, then heads to his bike to follow them to a nearby diner. When he turns the corner to where he left his bike parked, his stomach drops when he sees the pretty, blonde officer leaning against it. She’s got a smile on her face that looks nearly predatory and it only makes him more uncomfortable.

She takes off her sunglasses, “You’ve got some serious balls. Is it the werewolf thing?”

“Is there a reason you’re here, officer?” His voice shakes, but he hopes she doesn’t notice.

She rolls her eyes, “You can chill, this isn’t anything officially police-related.”

Scott exhales and crosses his arms, “Good. So...?”

“He remembers you,” She lifts an eyebrow and stands up to her full height.

It takes Scott a moment for her words to settle in, “Wait, what?”

“Stil-Officer Stilinski. His stupid little attempts at deflection earlier were just his weak attempt at a ruse. Trust me, I had to ride with him in a squad car for sixteen hours the day after he arrested you and you’re pretty much all he talked about. He refused to talk to Allison for hours when he found out that she released you before he got in that morning. And he ate her favorite donut right in front of her. Well, half of it, he threw the other half in the trash just to be an asshole.”

Scott smiles, “Really?”

“Yeah really, he was annoying as fuck, to be honest.”

“So wait...why was he such a jerk earlier?”

“Wow,” She playfully smiles at him, “You know his dad’s the sheriff right?”

“Uh, no. No I didn’t. I don’t think I even know who the sheriff is.”

“Yeah. Good ol’ Sheriff Stilinski,” She quirks an eyebrow, “You know, the one that’s getting all the heat from the mayor and the city government to keep you guys as much out of sight as possible?”

Scott huffs, “Oh.”

“Yeaaaah, so we have a sort of image to protect right now, cutie.”

Scott slumps against his bike, “So what do I do?”

The officer sighs, “I'm not sure if I can help you out there, hon. There's no way Stiles is going to go against his dad and there's no telling how much longer it'll take before the assholes in charge realize that they're being assholes.”

“His...his name is Stiles?”

She shrugs,  “It's a nickname. He won't let anyone use his real name.” 

“No uh.... I like it,” Scott grins.

“Oh my god,” She widens her eyes,  “Yeah, I'm just going to keep hoping there's a resolution to this mess soon. You two are grossing me out,” She slides her sunglasses back on, “Anyways,  I better head back before they start missing me.”

“Well thank you so much,  seriously. You made a crappy day much better, Officer...” Scott sneaks a peek at her name badge, “Reyes.”

She smiles again, “You can call me Erica.”

Scott's hands are shaking as she walks away,  and he feels like his chest might burst. Thankfully, his phone buzzes in his pocket, forcing his concentration away. When he pulls it out, it’s a text from Derek, asking him if he’s on his way yet. He sighs, somehow feeling more unsure than ever, and climbs on his bike.

 

***

 

For his part, Scott attends fewer protests than before. He tells everyone that it’s so he can focus more on his studies, but he’s sure his friends know he’s just worried about running into Officer Stilinski. He still helps out behind the scenes, arranging meet-ups, writing up pamphlets, sending letters to the governor, he just can’t bring himself to physically be at the actual protests.

A part of him definitely _wants_ to see Stiles again, but he’s not sure he can handle it. For some reason, knowing that Stiles likes him back and just refuses to do anything about it makes him feel worse than ever. There are a few times that Kira _almost_ talks him into going with them, but he remembers the blank look on Stiles’s face from their last meeting and refuses. Still, he knows that he won’t be able to resist for long, he hates not visibly supporting his fellow shapeshifters.

It’s sooner rather than later that he finally gives in and hops into Derek’s SUV with the rest of them, adrenaline pumping at the idea of being in the middle of everything for the first time in weeks. There’s a smile stuck on his face that won’t go away, no matter how many times his mind tries to force him to think about Stiles.

When they get there, there’s already a raucous crowd gathered, blocking the street outside the state capitol. Unsurprisingly, there’s a group of human-supremacists protesting against them and driving up the tension between the two of them. It’s the most heated Scott’s ever seen.

“When did they start showing up?” Scott asks Boyd, gesturing towards the counter-protesters.

Boyd lifts his eyebrows, “Uhh...a couple of weeks ago? Pretty much ever since that last bill went through the State Senate. They’re all really belligerent and rude, so try and keep your distance.”

Scott’s eyes go wide, “Really?”

“Yeah, man. Last time I saw one of them punch a werejaguar multiple times in the face, right in front of a police officer. It was rough.”

“Fuckin’ police,” Scott grumbles as they join the rest of the protesters.

Isaac smirks, “I thought you were trying to...?”

“Not anymore,” Scott shakes his head, “Not worth it.”

It pains Scott to see the counter-protesters; people that probably aren’t all bad, just convinced that he and the people like him shouldn’t be treated to the same rights as everyone else. It was a little heartbreaking to know that complete strangers could hate him and his kind so much without even really knowing them. He wished he could talk to them, maybe change their minds, but they’re all too busy shouting at his group and waving hateful signs at them.

There’s a line of squad cars along the side of the capitol, but Scott keeps them in his peripheral, afraid to glance over and see Stiles. His anger is enough that he refuses to check to be sure, instead he resolutely looks ahead and away from the capitol building. Part of him does feel better knowing that the police are present, though, since some of the angry group of people across from him look crazy enough to do something stupid.

A shout from his right confirms his suspicions and he turns his head, along with everyone else, to see an enraged woman spraying mace at a protester that Scott vaguely recognizes. Knowing these type of people, it’s probably wolfsbane-laced mace, especially with the way the poor girl is howling out as she clutches at her eyes.

From there, chaos seems to break out, the thin veneer of respectability between the two groups effectively broken. Scott immediately tries to gather his group together and nudge them towards the back of the crowd before any of them gets hurt. Suffice to say, it’s not easy. With the rest of the shifters rushing in various directions, Scott keeps losing track of them.

Malia disappears nearly immediately, eyes flashing, most likely to fight back against the counter-protesters. The crowd is too large and dense for Scott to do anything about it, which he hates. He’s even more upset when Isaac and and Kira get caught in a sea of people scrambling for an exit. Scott curses when he loses track of Isaac’s blond curls in the madness. Boyd and Derek have their arms linked together, and Scott grabs onto the back of their shirts as long as he can, until someone throws powdered wolfsbane right in Derek’s face and Boyd rears back, baring his teeth in a snarl. Scott moves to join him, feeling his own teeth elongate, but before he can help, he’s tugged backwards into an alleyway.

Scott spins around quickly, expecting an attacker, but draws his fist back when he recognizes the big doe-eyes of Stiles. He isn’t in uniform, surprisingly, instead he’s wearing a plain hoodie and dark jeans. Somehow, he still looks incredibly nice, despite the fact that the jeans don’t fit him as tightly as his uniform pants do. Scott turns away to hide the fact that he was checking Stiles out.

“Officer Stilinski,” Scott sneers, “What are you doing here?” snaps out, turning back to face him, “You’re obviously not on duty.”

Stiles huffs, “I’d have to be an idiot to not know that something would go down with those asshole supremacists here,” He narrows his eyes, “And also, a ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for preventing me from helping my friends? Both of them have probably been infected with wolfsbane by now and need me. So if you’ll excuse me-”

Stiles grabs his arm, “Your friends will be fine, okay?”

“You don’t know that,” Scott sneers.

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles waves a walkie-talkie at him, “Just because I’m not in uniform doesn’t mean I’m not communicating with the rest of the officers. They know all what happened and they’re taking care of it. Trust me, your friends are going to be okay. Now let me get you out of here before something happens to you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

Stiles narrows his eyes, “Because I just saved you from people that wanted to hurt you?”

Scott purses his lips, “Why’d you lie?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Why did you lie,” Scott deadpans, “When you said you didn’t remember me,” He shakes his arm free.

Stiles freezes, looks down, then shakes his head, “Are you serious right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Scott huffs.

“Look, okay, you can’t just come up to me, while I’m working, looking like you do with that adorable smile, a big brown eyes, and stupidly short shorts and expect me to react appropriately. I can’t flirt with someone with all the other officers around.”

“So you’re saying...”

“If you’d tried talking to me in a grocery store,” Stiles raises an eyebrow, “You would have gotten a completely different response.”

Scott’s eyes widen, “Good to know.”

“Now,” Stiles reaches down to link their hands together, “Is it okay if I save you?”

“Yeah,” Scott smiles, “Yeah I guess you can do that.”

Stiles nodding to him is all the warning Scott gets before he’s tugged through the alley in a blur. The buildings pass by them in a brown brick mass, existing mostly in his periphery. The shouts of the crowd grow more and more distant until Scott starts to forget why they’re running in the first place. All he can focus on are Stiles’s long fingers wrapped around his own, pulling him in what seems like the right direction.

All of a sudden, they skid to a stop and Stiles lets him go, walking a few paces and hunkering down to catch his breath. After a moment, he pulls his walkie-talkie back out. Scott stands transfixed, watching Stiles as he asks repeated questions into his radio and ruffles his free hand through his hair. He’s so busy focusing on Stiles that it takes him a moment to realize that they’re standing outside his apartment building. His jaw drops a little bit, his eyebrows furrowing.

When Stiles walks back over, Scott gives him a look, “Why are we...How did we...How do you know where I live?”

“Oh...about that,” Stiles grimaces, “It definitely wasn’t because I looked you up in the database after you were released. And absolutely not because I made it a point to start driving by, y’know, occasionally, sometimes, not that often. Not y’know, like a stalker or anything. Definitely not like a stalker. Just to make sure that you were...okay”

“Right. I guess that’s not creepy at all.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Stiles licks his lips, “I know how it sounds, but I...I don’t know a good way to explain. I guess just, uhhh...I can leave? I mean, you’re obviously home safe now so uhh...I can just head out,” He jerks his thumb behind him for emphasis.

“No! Hey, no,” Scott grabs onto his hand, “Not gonna lie, it is a little creepy, and probably some sort of abuse of your power,” He scrunches his face, “But I can’t say I wouldn’t have done it if I’d been able.”

“Huh,” A smile warily returns to Stiles’s face, “So I’m not...so we’re okay?”

“I think we _can_ be, as long as you’re okay with everyone knowing you like me. I mean, I’m pretty sure you like me, right?”

Stiles squints a bit, “Maybe a little.”

“So uh,” Scott bites his bottom lip, “Since you’ve seen the outside of this place quite a few times, do you want to actually see the inside?”

Stiles groans and leans back, “Shit, I wish I could. The problem is, I’m not _technically_ off-duty. I’ve gotta get back and make sure nothing else happens. Plus, I gotta tell me da-I gotta tell the Sheriff what’s going on with the counter-protesters. It’s time the powers-that-be quit taking their side.”

“Okay, okay, yeah, that’s good. Want me to come with?”

“No!” Stiles eyes go wide, “I just got you here safe, please just stay here.”

Scott frowns, looking at the ground before crinkling his nose, “Maybe you could...come back here later?” He looks up, slightly hopeful.

Stiles grins, “Really think that would be a good idea? Not sure how all your friends would feel about me being here.”

“I was thinking more of a uh...” Scott tugs on his bottom lip, “Just you and me sort of thing? We could have a beer, maybe, and just talk?”

“Yeah,” His grin gets wider, “I think that’s definitely doable. Would it be okay if I uh...gave you my number?”

“Oh my god, yes! Yes, that would be awesome, please do that!” He hurriedly pulls his phone out to hand it to Stiles.

“Great uh,” Stiles is quiet for a second as he types the numbers in, “Here, text me later, okay?”

Scott looks down at the phone, smiling at the new entry, “Thanks...Stiles,” He adds a heart emoji to the end, just because.

“It’s a nickname, my real name is kinda...” He waves his hand around as he trails off.

“Yeah, Officer Reyes, uh, Erica, already told me.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Of course she did,” He sighs and gives Scott one last, long look, “I really gotta head back now. But I promise I’ll swing by later, okay?”

“Okay,” Scott smiles, “Just...”

Scott leans forward tentatively, making his intentions obvious but still giving Stiles time to back away or turn his head if he wants to. Thankfully, Stiles just smirks a little when he realizes what Scott’s doing, then slowly closes his eyes and meets him halfway.

The initial brush of lips is tentative, testing, like Stiles expects Scott to change his mind at any point. Then, Scott reaches out to grab onto Stiles’s waist, pulling him closer, pressing them firmer together. He relishes the rushed gasp that escapes from Stiles’s mouth and tilts his head forward to take Stiles’s top lip into his mouth.

Stiles groans softly, reaching up to cup Scott’s jaw and letting his nose drag along Scott’s soft skin as their lips slide against the other. It's the most detached Scott’s felt from the outside world since the first time he smoked weed. This though,  this is much better.

With a soft, sad sigh, Stiles pulls back, blinking owlishly, “I've really umm....I've got to get back.”

“Yeah,” Scott licks his lips, “I know.”

“But I'll be back. Later. I promise.”

With obvious reluctance, Stiles lets go of Scott's hands, a huge smile plastered on his face as he walks away. Scott's eyes linger on him even after he's turned around and started heading back to the protest, visibly fussing into his walkie-talkie as he moves out of sight.

Still grinning stupidly, Scott finally heads into his apartment building, scanning through his phone for the newest entry. When he scrolls down to Stiles’s name, he types out a quick text just so Stiles will have his number. He gets a response a few seconds later.

 - _Who is this?_

_\- just kidding._

_\- too soon?_

 All three come in near rapid succession, and make Scott chuckle as he walks up his stairs. He types out a response,  but decides to make him squirm for a minute or two before sending it. In a way, Stiles kind of deserved it.

  _-_ im sure this time i can let you off with just a warning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory link to [my tumblr](http://somnambulipstick.tumblr.com)


End file.
